Rocky Mountain Manhunt. Cassie Miles

him because nobody could ever take the place of my father. Especially not Peter.”

      “Why not?”

      “Dad was totally into the outdoors. Peter is all about designer shoes and monogrammed shirts. He’s happiest with a crystal champagne flute in his hand. He used to call me The Brat.”

      “You don’t seem bratty to me,” Liam said.

      “I have a temper,” she admitted. “A legendary bad temper.”

      “Like when you took a shot at me?”

      “I wasn’t angry then,” she informed him. “Shooting trespassers is practical.”

      His grin was ironic but also charming. And she was comfortable enough to respond with a smile of her own. Comfortable. Peaceful.

      She glided a fingertip across the smooth maple of the tabletop. She liked being here. His cabin was cozy and quiet. She’d forgotten how pleasant it was to be inside a warm house, sitting on a padded chair, drinking soda pop. Nice and normal.

      She exhaled a sigh. “Before you came along, I had convinced myself that I’d never leave the forest. Now, here I am. In a cabin. With you.”

      He reached across the table. His large hand rested atop hers. “I’m glad you’re here.”

      Though she suspected that Liam was only being kind and reassuring, she couldn’t help wondering if a deeper relationship was possible. She wouldn’t mind if he pulled her close in an embrace. It wouldn’t hurt her feelings if he kissed her.

      Oh, good grief! Was she falling for the man who had rescued her? Wasn’t that the biggest cliché in the world?

      “I still can’t believe it,” she said. “Yesterday, the most important thing was to catch a fish.”

      “Tomorrow will be harder,” he said. “You’ll have to face the media.”

      “And my family.”

      “You don’t sound happy about that.” His eyes were curious. “Does meeting your family worry you?”

      “I feel terribly guilty. They’re going to be angry and…” Her voice faded as a prickle of fear teased the edge of her consciousness. Why would she be scared of her own family?

      “Back to the memories,” she said, picking up a picture of herself with her stepbrother. “This is Tom. Peter’s son. He’s gotten interested in the family business, attends board meetings and usually is on my side.”

      “Does the board have a lot of disagreements?”

      “Of course we do. RMS has a lot of money.”

      “Tell me about Tom. Is he athletic like you?”

      “There’s only one sport he excels at. Tom is an expert marksman.”

      Staring at the slightly blurred fax, she remembered a site trip with Tom. They had been looking at several mountain acres proposed for development. Her stepbrother had insisted on bringing his rifle, a Remington. In her mind, she saw him bracing the stock against his shoulder. Peering intently through his shaggy, dark brown bangs, he’d aimed and…

      Gunfire rattled through the forest behind her. The shooters came nearer and nearer, but she couldn’t see them. An oppressive weight pressed down upon her. Her arms were heavy. She couldn’t carry on. Not one more step. Her legs ached. She sank to the earth, beaten. Sweat poured down her forehead. She couldn’t move but she had to go forward. Into the flames. Into the searing fire.

      “Kate, what is it? What do you remember?”

      “A forest fire.” Her memory faded. “It seemed like I was in the middle of it.”

      “Go on,” Liam encouraged.

      “I was carrying something.”

      “Your backpack?” he suggested.

      “Heavier.” She shook her head. “I can’t see it. This is more like a feeling.”

      “What else?”

      “The hunters,” she said. “I don’t know why they’re after me. Damn it, why? What did I do wrong?”

      “You didn’t do anything,” Liam said.

      But her backpack held stacks of hundred-dollar bills and a pouch of jewelry. She remembered a man being shot. In her mind, she saw his blood. “What if I did? What if I’m a criminal?”

      “I’d be surprised,” he said. “You don’t fit the typical profile for a perp.”

      “A perp? How do you know about perps?”

      “Remember, Kate, before I moved to Grand Lake, I worked for the Denver D.A.’s office.”

      He’d been a prosecutor—not the best person to tell about possible criminal activities. Nervously, she asked, “What’s the perp profile?”

      “Not you,” he said. “You’re from an upper-class background, haven’t been in trouble with the law before and you’re socially active.”

      She took a potato chip from the bag on the table and studied it before nibbling at the edge. “None of those things are a guarantee that I wouldn’t do something I might regret.”

      “Everybody is capable of lapses in judgment.” He tipped back in his chair. His arms folded across his chest. Those sexy hazel eyes steadily regarded her. “You’ve brought up the topic of criminal behavior a couple of times. Why?”

      Because I might be a thief. Or a murderer. She looked away; it wasn’t easy to withhold information from him. “I can’t tell you.”

      “Can’t? Or won’t?”

      “Both,” she said. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

      “I can’t answer that question until you tell me the whole truth.”

      She wasn’t ready. Not yet. Not until she was certain that she hadn’t shot Wayne Silverman or stolen the loot that was now buried in her cave. “I’m not lying to you.”

      “But you’re holding back.”

      His scrutiny made her nervous. She got up from the table, walked a few paces, then turned toward the front windows. “I need to go outside. I’m feeling cooped up.”

      “Holding back information will do that to you.”

      Liam shoved back his chair and rose from the table. Her refusal to come clean was beginning to tick him off. What was she hiding? He wanted to help her, to believe her. But he didn’t have the patience to play evasive games.

      On the front porch, he leaned against the railing and looked out on his land. Lazy clouds drifted across the afternoon skies. At the end of the day, the pace of life slowed to a crawl. Even in the mountains, where there were no time clocks, the squirrels took a recess from their constant foraging and the birds returned to their nests.

      Liam glanced toward his Super Cub, gleaming white in the sunlight. Probably, he ought to move it inside the shed. But it didn’t look like rain. The Cub would be okay for the night.

      Besides, they’d be taking off early tomorrow, heading back to Denver. Kate had to return to her family. He’d probably never see her again. In the life she’d been describing, there was no place for a man like him.

      “It’s odd,” she said. “We’ve only known each other for twenty-four hours, but it feels like a lot longer.”

      “A lifetime.” Long enough for him to be annoyed with her.

      Her sharp chin lifted as she stared straight ahead, concentrating on an unknown future beyond the horizon. Her short hair ruffled in the breeze, and the corner of her mouth pulled into an adorable little frown.

      His irritation faded. He’d known her long enough to forgive, to accept her